Lost Angel (The List #1) Page 3

  10:04am

  Six miles and an hour later, I return; ten minute miles. Not bad on a bottle of wine and a marriage breakdown. I sweated out the alcohol and used my run to get my head straight and made mental lists of everything I could think of that needs to be done both personal and business.

  After stretching off on the driveway, I head in the house feeling physically drained but mentally energized, ready to get started on tackling these new to do lists. I stroll into the lounge and find Wills sitting on her yoga mat in the lotus position meditating. I silently retreat and slip upstairs to jump in the shower.

  Once dressed, I put my towel-dried hair in a long thick French plait and continued emptying my clothes onto the bed, most of which are thankfully still attached to their hangers. The double fitted wardrobe in my room soon fills up but I notice a distinct lack of colour. Note to self: Inject some colour into my wardrobe, and my life, on my next shopping frenzy.

  Each bag I unpack makes me feel more at home and settled. I put my laptop and Next Chapters files and paperwork onto the dressing table, which can act as my workspace. I put a couple of framed photos out too, including one of me with my mother and my late-grandmother standing on the threshold of Next Chapter.

  I inherited the bookshop from my grandmother six years ago, when she passed away, I was 21. It was a difficult time for us because she was so close to my mother, similarly to my relationship with my mother. Plus she was the last of her generation. Next Chapter had been her shop for seventeen years, a somewhat spontaneous purchase at a cheap price apparently. It was being sold as a shell of a shop in drastic need of renovation. My grandmother fell in love with it, being inspired to fulfil a dream of hers. My mom often tells me how my grandmother said that she didn’t see the cracks, the cobwebs or the rotting floorboards. What she saw was endless opportunity and potential. They didn’t need the money, it was done out of pure love, devotion and hard work.

  With the help of my grandfather, my parents and friends, that shell soon transformed into her welcoming quaint bookshop, with a heart-warming family feel. I have such fond memories of visiting there for hours on end when I was growing up. Doing my homework, sitting reading, writing poetry, surrounded by the smell of books and coffee – I’ve always loved books and was destined to love coffee too.

  I was astonished when she’d left it to me in her will; I’d assumed it would have been my parents’. But it turns out that the women had discussed it in depth and she’d wanted me to have a small business giving me some security whilst turning a profit to help pay for my education.

  There was no pressure for me to work there, as it was already fully functional. It was an established business, with long standing knowledgeable employees running it. My grandmother would come and go, more sporadically towards the end; the staff and customers alike loved her dearly. They’ve all remained loyal to her too, often using it to introduce their next generations to the world of words and so on.

  My parents inherited her home and a sizable amount of money, so they rented out their own house and moved in. A couple of years later, they made the tough decision to sell both properties and relocate to St Ives on the coast. We used to holiday there all the time growing up, it’s utterly stunning there.

  I was newly engaged to Mike and living on cloud nine at the time but I still had to reassure Mom that I’d be fine. They’d always planned to retire there but bought their plans forward, which I knew was a great decision for them. My dad worked in construction, floating successfully from one contract to another, letting his reputation precede him. My mom had been a nurse for over twenty years and spent the majority of that time working in a very demanding inner-city accident and emergency department. Some of the stories I’ve heard over the years are not for the faint hearted. From gang shootings to limbs hanging off, from gouged eyes to wine bottles up anuses! It’s a bloody good job I’m not squeamish, no pun intended. Leaving that job was a massive step for her. My dad took it with a pinch of salt as he didn’t have any emotional ties to his jobs. He would soon substitute the physical side of his role with home improvements and other self-made determined projects, not to mention all the odd jobs he soon roped himself into for his friendly neighbourhood.

  I believe that each time they lost one of their parents it altered their priorities and outlook on life. Now they had enough financial backing to both take early retirement. My parents are so beautifully in love, they are the epitome of truelove for me. They’ve always been my inspiration for my happily ever after. Plus the hundreds of romance novels at my fingertips serving to heighten my potentially deluded expectations.

  I soon fell in love with their new home. Waking up to clear blue skies for miles and a breath-taking sea view does something magical to your mind-set. The pace of living isn’t hurried, when you go for a walk, strangers smile, stop and talk. I joked to my dad one day asking if everybody who lives there attends a monthly hypnosis putting them in a state of peace, happiness and tranquillity. That’s what it’s like and it’s so surreal in stark comparison to the Midlands. You’re reminded of the important things in life and I totally get why my parents see it as their resting place. Perhaps one day I’ll want to escape the rat race and follow.

  Whenever I return home from a visit, driving down the M6 motorway, I feel the air getting heavier with each passing junction. The roads become more and more claustrophobic along with my thoughts and anxieties… Maybe I should start my property searching in St Ives and not the Midlands…

  I venture back downstairs and find Willow making a cup of coffee for us in the kitchen, her yoga music still playing in the background.

  “What’s this?” I gesture towards the stereo.

  “Ah-ha. It’s my favourite yoga playlist. This is “Long Time Sun” by Snatam Kaur. Enchanting isn’t it?”

  “Wow Wills, her voice is just… exquisite, I’ve got goose bumps.” We sit in silence, on the high stools at the kitchen island until the track finishes. “I need to get in on this yoga; I think I’m missing out. I’ve unpacked by the way.” Taking my first sip of coffee now it’s cooled down enough. “Oh and I’ve put my toiletries in the bathroom by me, is that okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah I should have told you that yesterday babe. It’s cool; I don’t really use that one. Only if I have company—” She trails off, as we both know what kind of company she’s referring to. I’m under no illusion as to how often Willow has company. She has no interest in settling down and isn’t searching for ‘The One’, believing if it’s meant to be you shouldn’t have to search. A devote believer in living life to the max; what will be will be. She is what we like to call ‘Tri-sexual’; she will try anything sexual. No preference on gender or race or age. If she likes what she sees, she goes for it.

  “Speaking of company… Please don’t feel you have to curb your enthusiasm on my behalf. I’m good at making myself scarce, I promise. I don’t want to upset your insatiable libido!”

  Frowning she confesses, “Trust me girl, you do not need to be concerned about my libido… And yes, you are very good at making yourself scarce—”

  Now I’m confused. “Eh?”

  “…. like last night when my libido and I had company for a few hours after you went to bed—”

  “Yooou didn’t…. Did you? You did! Who with? I mean, how? I swear, you’re incorrigible Miss Sedgwick. I need deets, now.”

  Here I am trying to reassure her that she doesn’t need to tread carefully around me or let her sex life suffer and there she is sexing it up into the early hours of this morning. I’m pleased though; I would hate to think that having me here was going to be a burden.

  Wills can’t wipe the grin off her face and immediately delves into every detail from cup size to lube, from positions to technique. I eagerly listen whilst sipping on my much needed coffee. Wills cracks me up; always so theatrical and comical with her stories. I love listening to the detailed recollections of her sexual encounters. I don’t even think there’s a TMI threshold between us
or if there is, we’ve never found it. Not only is it the ultimate girly gossip but it also satisfies my curiosities.

  Mike and I unfortunately had the stereotypical sex life of a couple that have been together years, evolving into such once we married. Mike just seemed to be easily satisfied and had what I considered to be a low sex drive, often leaving my body bereft of sexual fulfilment. I got used to it in the end. I stopped questioning it; there’s only so many times you can be knocked-back when suggesting to try something new in the bedroom. It got me down and I questioned my ability to please my husband. Eventually, I had to accept that if he was happy then why would I want or need more? Of course, I’d have Wills’ tales educating me to the contrary but I convinced myself that that was her life and this is mine, of which I was happy.

  I could never dream about getting up to half the things she gets up to – tell a lie, that’s all I can do actually; dream. Wonderful, unadulterated, wringing wet dreams! Hands down, they were always better than the real thing. I’m convinced they’re products of my extremely creative imagination taking pity on my horny little neglected body. Thoughtful filthy gifts to myself, of which I am eternally grateful.

  Well, the tide has indeed turned and I have the world of sex at my fingertips now. A spiralling ball of adrenalin ping pongs around my tummy. A seed of excitement is planted to mark the occasion.

  “…. So yeah, there you have it. She was a freakin’ badass blonde and I love a girl with curves. I can’t wait until you feel ready to, you know, put yourself out there again. Not that I’m rushing you, but seriously, there is a whole world of pleasure out there just waiting for your beautiful big ass.”

  “Big?”

  “Yeah—beautiful and big! Honestly I find the prospect so exciting, especially considering you don’t have a clue what you’re in for.”

  “Promises, promises Wills! Maybe you shouldn’t overinflate my expectations. What if I end up disappointed or worse still; disappointing?”

  “Im-freakin’-possible after the sex life you’ve become accustomed to! Sorry B, that sounded harsh. Look, I’m not taking the piss or putting you down, I just know that because Mike is your only lover he is also your only comparison. But judging by the details you’ve shared with me over the years, I’m confident you’re going to enjoy exploring the advantages of being a single lady. Trust. Me.”

  Which of course I do implicitly. So as that seed sprouts into a seedling, with a surge of excited confidence and feeling of freedom I blurt out, “Okay then. How about this Friday night—do you fancy a date with yours truly?”

  Wills face lights up. “Really? Hell yeah! OhmyGodthisisgonnabethebestdate ever! Are you sure?”

  “Defo. I know it may seem ridiculously too soon but my energy is raring to go. I don’t mean to go and get laid, I just mean to go out as a single lady. I wanna see what it feels like, you know? Plus there’s no harm in looking who’s out there—” Wills interrupts me.

  “Girl, you’re single. The ‘look but don’t touch’ rule no longer applies! So there’s no harm in looking and touching who’s out there.” That just sounds so weird but I guess it’s true. “Oh man, I’m so hyped for you. I’m gonna make sure you’re waxed, tanned and primed for this. I’ll make a couple of appointments for us this week.” She rapidly claps her hands together like an ecstatic performing seal.

  “Sounds like a plan Batwoman.” Wills giggles and rubs her hands together like she’s trying to warm them up—or more like hatching a plan! What have I done? “Hmmm, something’s telling me I should be regretting handing this to you on a plate Wills?”

  “Pssh, come on! I’m used to it being handed to me on a plate B. Don’t worry, you’re in very good hands?” She winks and gives me an air high five from across the island.

  “Well, evil genius, I’m going to give you some space to hatch your wicked little plans. Just lemme know the password for your internet and I’ll be out your hair. I’ve got a shedload to do so there’s no time like the present.”

  7:02pm

  After typing my mental notes into organised ‘to do’ lists, I had a productive day.

  I’ve finally reviewed Next Chapters inventory; a laborious task that has been fuelling some serious procrastination on my part. I emailed my right-hand man, Eddie, proposing some strategies to rotate titles more effectively and introduce some hot new authors I’ve been sample reading. Hopefully this’ll create another boost to our online trade too.

  When Next Chapter became mine I threw myself into the business wanting to know it inside out and it soon stole my heart. In hindsight, I think this was just part of the grieving process. But I soon became confident using what I’d learned so far on my Business Management course at university and bouncing ideas off Mike constantly. I treated it as work placement connected to my degree, which became win win for me. Juggling the two was a struggle but it paid off when I graduated and it was a massive relief along the way, providing the money to pay my fees and bills. I didn’t make as many close friends that students typically make throughout their time at uni. My social life was practically non-existent but it was a small price to pay.

  Thoughts of Mike triggered a phone call to remind him to put the bins out, which he found humorous. The conversation was awkward at first until we’d got the first few minutes out of the way. I made arrangements to swing by over the next few days to pick up any post and some other stuff he’s put aside for me. I came away from the conversation still feeling motivated and on track.

  Wills called me to the kitchen for a bite to eat. She’d rustled up a healthy meal of jacket potatoes with tuna and her home-grown salad. Lush.

  We discussed living arrangements and me paying my way. Wills reiterated that there’s no hurry for me to rush off. I really do need to decide whether to go down the rental route or buying. More importantly, I need to consider location and commuting. Wills emphasised that finding my feet and finding the right property don’t have set timescales. I believe her when she says she wants me around. She is honest, brutally so sometimes, which is something else I love about her. Never any hidden agendas or having to read between the lines. She tells you how it is and what you see is definitely what you get; a beautiful caring friend. She has told me a couple of times that Mike wasn’t good enough for me. The first time, she was drunk and I laughed it off. The second time, she was stone cold sober and I cried it off. I reacted by standing up for him and fighting his corner. I refused to take her opinion on board but, in the end, I respected her for sharing it with me.

  We planned to end the week with beer, snacks and Wills choice of what to watch, so we sported our onesies and got comfy.

  “Right then B, it’s time to knock the dust off one of my favourite programmes; “Orange Is The New Black – Season One” baby! I can’t believe Mike the Misery never wanted to watch it with you. Sit back, relax and prepare for a marathon of back-to-back episodes… You’re gonna love it!”

  We link arms on the sofa and she snuggles into me, excited like a kid at Christmas. Her smile is infectious. Right there and then, I have a wow moment, thinking about how a marriage break up shouldn’t be this straight forward. Is all this too good to be true? Break-ups are usually messy in films or on the television. But so far, everything has just fallen into place. Should I be feeling nervous? I really hope this new bubble I’ve found myself in doesn’t pop anytime soon.

  Chapter Three

  Monday 16th March 2015

  8:14am

  It’s a beautiful day, with the sun shining and barely any clouds. I have the windows down and music blaring. Pulling into my designated parking bay around the back of Next Chapter, I’m singing along to some girl power song.

  I jump out the car with more energy than I’m used to for a Monday morning. Walking with a little extra bounce, I unlock the shops back door but the security system doesn’t beep so I know Eddie is already here. He cycles to work and keeps the bike inside.

  In 2010, I’d worked hard with a web designer developing our own
website, which primarily would provide our customers with access to online purchasing for delivery and collection. Also branching us out into the world of e-books and audiobooks. Mrs Tunbridge was the previous manager, with ten years of service. She was set to retire so in the months leading up to the launch of the website I hired Eddie as her replacement. I took an instant liking to him during the interview; we were simply on the same wavelength. When I started hinting at some of my plans he was so knowledgeable and enthusiastic, I knew he was the man for the job.

  Mrs Tunbridge knew the shop like the back of her hand but when Eddie started, it was like he breathed a colourful breath of fresh air into the place. Once he was up to speed, it meant that I could take a step back from the hands-on shop management and concentrate on the website as well as planning my next strategy; in-store renovation.

  After the business had adapted to the new trade created from the website, I had to take on another member of staff, Holly. Then I kept the momentum up by renovating the shop to incorporate a new tech dual purpose working and seating area. I had the dividing wall between the shop and the storeroom/staffroom knocked through. It was wasted space in my opinion, so it was converted into the new plush seating area with hot and cold drinks and snacks vending machines. Then came my favourite addition; work pods, either with desktops or docking stations for laptops and tablets. It was like delicately merging a cyber café into the shop.